His Tiny Angel
by JamesLuver
Summary: Anna brings her newborn daughter up to the house to introduce her to the servants, and cherishes watching John with her.


**A/N:** Last oneshot, finally. A bit of family Bates finishes the job nicely, I suppose. The second half is inspired by a post on ImagineYourOTP.

From behindthename dot com: Emma is 'originally a short form of Germanic names that began with the element _ermen_ meaning "whole" or "universal"'. I just thought that was fitting given that she completes their little family.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

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><p><em>I've made it my business to observe fathers and daughters. And I've seen some incredible, beautiful things...her father holds her hand and walks with her like she's a tiny angel that no one can touch. <em>– Adriana Trigiani, _Big Stone Gap_

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><p><span><em>His Tiny Angel<em>

"Oh, Anna, how wonderful to see you! Mr. Bates said you might look in on us!"

Mrs. Hughes' voice echoed down the hall as Anna entered through the back door, and she smiled brightly as the housekeeper hurried to greet her.

"Hello, Mrs. Hughes," she said. "I hope now's a good time?"

"Any time's a good time to see the jolly wee babe," Mrs. Hughes replied, and Anna's smile widened. "Let's see her!"

She descended the stairs until she was on the same level as the housekeeper, twisting herself so that the older woman could get a better look at the bundle in her arms. Mrs. Hughes' index finger reached out and hooked the blanket further back, gasping.

"She's grown so much since I last saw her!" she said.

"I can't believe how fast these two weeks have gone," Anna agreed. "It doesn't seem two minutes since I was expecting her."

"And she's got such bonny cheeks!" Mrs. Hughes continued, tickling her under her chin.

"Takes after her father there."

"I think she takes after her father in quite a few ways."

Anna grinned. "I have to say, I agree with you." She would never complain about that. John often groused that she would be an unlucky mite if she grew to be too like him, but Anna ignored his self-deprecation. She knew her husband to be a handsome man. Their little Emma would be a heartbreaker too.

"The others can't wait to meet her."

"Even Mr. Carson?" she joked.

"He might try to act dignified, but he's a big softie underneath it all."

"Unless she starts crying." Anna glanced down. Emma's face was smooth and peaceful – for the moment – her blue eyes staring unblinkingly up at her mother.

"Nonsense. All babies cry. And this little madam seems as good as gold."

"At least until she's hungry," she giggled. "Is Mr. Bates around?"

"He's already in the servants' hall. Luncheon won't be too far away."

"And I won't be getting in the way?"

"Of course not. You're more than welcome to stay yourself."

"Better not. I didn't bring the pram. A cup of tea would be nice, though."

"If you're sure. Come on through."

Anna followed Mrs. Hughes towards the servants' hall. She'd thought that she would miss the hustle and bustle of servant life more than she actually did; when she had first left service, six weeks before her due date, she had felt sad that she had little to occupy her time. She supposed that now she just didn't have the time to miss it – being a mother was a full time occupation. One which she wouldn't change for the world.

"Anna!"

Daisy, who had been laying glasses at the other side of the table, was the first to notice her. Beaming, Anna stepped fully into the room, her eyes finding her husband at once. He was smiling almost as widely, his eyes dancing as he stood to greet her.

"I was wondering when we'd see you," he said, allowing himself to lean in to kiss her cheek – after all, she didn't work at the house any longer. "How are you both?"

"Just fine," she said, but she didn't have a chance to say any more before she was bombarded with excited servants vying to see the baby for themselves. Mrs. Hughes bustled in after her, clucking.

"Give her room to breathe!" she commanded. "Anna, sit yourself down. The others can see the baby then."

John took her by the elbow, escorting her round to the seats that they had always occupied together. He pulled the chair out for her – always a complete gentleman – before settling in beside her. Daisy was the first to approach, suddenly shy.

"Can I see?" she asked.

Anna nodded, jostling the baby in her arms so that the young woman could get a better look. Daisy gasped, her eyes going wide.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "She's so beautiful, Anna!"

"She is," Madge agreed, who had sidled up behind her.

Thomas glanced up from his paper, sparing them a cursory glance. "She certainly looks like you, Mr. Bates. And here I was, thinking that Anna might have sneaked elsewhere."

"Mr. Barrow!"

It was Mr. Carson's thunderous voice that filled the hall; Emma shifted uneasily, unused to such a loud voice. "Kindly remember where you are."

Thomas smirked, but said nothing else, blowing out a ring of smoke and going back to his reading. Anna swallowed, pushing down unwanted memories. Not here, not now. She jigged her daughter just lightly, humming when she settled back down.

"Here's your tea, Anna."

Mrs. Patmore strolled into the room carrying a tea tray. Anna smiled gratefully as the cook placed it down and peered over Mrs. Hughes' chair.

"Let's be looking at her, then," she said.

Anna laughed, presenting her to the cook. "Does she pass the test?"

Emma's flailing fist came into contact with Mrs. Patmore's finger, wrapping around it at once. Mrs. Patmore looked positively thrilled.

"Aye, that she does," she said. "Blimey, Mr. Bates, she _is _the spit of you."

"So I keep being told," he said, but he accepted it in good grace. "Here, let me take her for a bit, just while you drink your tea."

Anna grinned, and the sacred exchange of their daughter was performed. She didn't seem too happy with the moving, her little face crinkling in displeasure, until John nestled her into the crook of his arm and started cooing at her, offering her his finger to hold.

"Daddy's got you, little love," he murmured.

Anna shook her head, hiding a smile. John was absolutely enamoured with her. Of course, she'd always known that he would be a good father – he was far too loving and gentle to be anything but – but she hadn't expected the sheer scale that he would want to be involved. Usually it was the man's place to leave the baby to his wife, but John was adamant that he would help just as much as he could when he wasn't up at the big house.

"I'm not sure that fatherhood is for _me_," said Jimmy, wrinkling his nose. "No offence," he added quickly, flushing under his golden locks.

"It's quite all right," Anna teased. "We don't agree with you, but we don't expect everyone to share our opinion."

"Well, I'm happy for you," said Mr. Molesley. "It's been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

"Really, Mr. Molesley, that's enough of _that_," Mr. Carson groaned, and it was the footman's turn to blush scarlet, quickly lowering his eyes. Miss Baxter hid a smile, leaning over to stroke Emma's cheek.

Anna picked up her tea cup, observing her husband and her daughter while she drank, letting the conversation of the others wash over her. Emma looked tiny nestled in John's arms, barely as long as his forearm. His whole hand was bigger than her head, and her tiny fingers could barely close around his index finger. Despite all that, John was completely at ease holding her. He rocked her just lightly as he sat at the table, laughing and joking along with the others. She had never seen him so at ease. Other men might have been embarrassed, having to sit there holding a baby in their arms. It wasn't the most striking image of masculinity. And yet John clearly didn't mind. Other men like Jimmy might gossip about it later, but John would let it go right over his head.

"_Why should I mind?"_ he'd said. _"I have everything to make up for it right here."_

His dedication towards his daughter only made her fall in love all over again.

Too soon, tea was over.

"I'll be ringing the dressing gong soon," said Mr. Carson, looking pointedly at Anna. She took it as her cue, pushing her chair away from the table.

"I'd better get going," she said. "Emma's due another nap." She was also due a feed, but she wouldn't scandalise them all.

John sighed wistfully. Anna reached out.

"Let me take her back now," she said.

"That's all right. I'll walk her to the door with you."

Anna hid a smile, nodding in acceptance. John was always reluctant to put her down after he'd been holding her.

"Bring her for another visit soon," Mrs. Hughes reminded her.

"You can come and visit the cottage any time you like, too."

"I'll see if I can get away one afternoon. It will be nice to spend time with you both without everyone else around."

Anna giggled, slipping back into her coat. "Goodbye, Mrs. Hughes."

"Goodbye, my dear." Mrs. Hughes nodded once, then retreated to give Anna and John a more private parting.

"Well, Mr. Bates," she said, "give her here. Work awaits you."

"I wish it didn't," he muttered. "I'd love to be coming home with you."

"You'll see her when you get back. You know how much she loves the sound of Daddy's voice. No doubt she'll be crying for your attention the moment she hears you."

John's eyes softened. "I wouldn't complain about that." He bent in, stroked his finger down Emma's cheek. "See you later, my little love. Be a good girl for your mummy."

"I'm sure she will be," Anna cooed. "Won't you, baby girl?"

Emma offered her a tiny gummy smile, her little arms flailing. Anna took that as an agreement.

"As for you," John said, and she smiled as he risked placing a hand on her hip, "don't you do anything that I wouldn't do."

"And what would that be?" she purred.

"I don't know," he growled. "You'll think of something, I'm sure."

Before she could open her mouth to shoot back a sassy retort, he dipped his head towards her, stopping her short. She closed her eyes at the soft contact, flushing with delight. Emma squawked a little between them, clearly not liking being jostled. John laughed, pulling away.

"Mr. Bates," she said breathlessly. "How very daring of you."

"I like to think that I can be daring at times," he said. "That will have to carry me through until I see you tonight."

Anna licked her lips, leaned back in.

"Have one for the road," she murmured. The crinkles around his eyes deepened, and she met his mouth again, lingering for a few moments longer than necessary. The sound of scraping chairs in the servants' hall reminded them that they weren't alone, and with great reluctance they parted.

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><p>It was still dark when Anna awoke quite suddenly. Groggy, she lay there in the darkness. She couldn't hear her daughter gurgling, the sounds she made before her whimpers turned into full blown cries for attention or food. Her body was trained to awaken as soon as she heard that. So what had disturbed her tonight?<p>

Sighing, she rolled onto her other side, intending to snuggle up against her husband's warm bulk and relish the extra bit of snatched sleep that she could sneak.

Nothing but cold sheets met her.

Now she did open her eyes, struggling up on her elbows and peering into the darkness. The sight before her made her smile.

John was sitting in the old rocking chair that they had been gifted with from the abbey. Nestled in his arms was Emma. He was staring down at her face as she slept soundly, his index finger caught in her tiny fist. However, at the sound of the bed springs squeaking, he glanced up.

"Hello," he whispered. "Did I wake you?"

She shook her head, pushing the sheets back. "No, it's fine."

Searching for her gown, she watched as John turned his gaze back on his daughter, swaying her just slightly in his arms.

"I don't think I'll ever get over how beautiful she is," he whispered. "I can't believe that I had a hand in making someone so perfect."

"Well, believe it," she replied, padding across the room to his side. "I think we make a pretty good team."

"That we do," he agreed. "In fact, I think we should try for another one when she's a little bit older."

"It would be a crime to not spread our genes as far as we can," she said, but she couldn't keep a straight face, bursting into giggles.

John turned his attention back to his daughter, a soft smile spreading across his features. Anna slipped behind him, peering over his shoulder so that she could see what he was seeing. Emma twitched her mouth in her sleep, her little legs kicking out. She was dressed snugly in a woollen baby suit, swathed in blankets to keep the cold at bay. She stifled a smile at John's overprotectiveness shining through.

"John, you do know that she's all right to leave in her crib?" she whispered.

This was not a new scenario: every day since Emma's birth, she had awoken in the middle of the night to find John in the rocking chair with his daughter in his arms. Occasionally he would be asleep too, but usually he was awake, staring down at her. It was endearing if a little exasperating. He fussed worse than she did.

"Come on," she continued. "You'll be exhausted if you don't try and get some sleep. I don't know how you've been managing it these last couple of weeks. Emma is already making a monster of me in the mornings. How are you coping when you're sleeping even less than I am?"

"Years of practice," he said absent-mindedly. "I just can't believe it, Anna. We have a daughter. I'm afraid that if I close my eyes for one minute I'll wake up and find that it was all just a dream."

"Silly beggar, that isn't going to happen. You're stuck with both of us. Now, come on. It's not good for you, spending all your time awake. Soon you'll look like one of Bram Stoker's awful vampires."

"I'll try and refrain from sucking your blood, dear wife," he murmured.

"I mean it, John. Come back to bed with me. Emma is going to have to learn sometime that she can't spend the rest of her life in her daddy's arms."

"I don't think I would complain about that."

"Yes, but _I _might. A little alone time every now and then wouldn't go amiss."

He shot her a wolfish grin. "Point taken."

"Now, put her back in her cot, Mr. Bates, and come and keep me warm."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, slowly easing himself forward with a groan. "I'm sorry, my darling, but Mummy is being most insistent. Take any issues you have up with her."

Anna shook her head, dipping her head to press a feather light kiss to her daughter's forehead as John stood.

"Please be a good girl for Mummy and let me get at least a couple of hours' sleep tonight," she whispered, stroking the backs of her fingers over her cheek. Emma wriggled, but didn't awaken.

"She takes after you in that respect," John teased, crossing over to the crib and laying her gently in it. "Once you're asleep neither hell nor high water could wake you."

"Oh, be quiet."

He tucked the blankets tight around Emma, stood over her for a few seconds longer, before turning in the direction of their bed. Anna slipped in before him, snuggled up against him when he followed her. His arm came up around her, holding her close. His warmth seeped into her bones. Bliss.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds. Anna listened to the reliable thump of her husband's heart beneath her, closing her eyes. Peace was rare at the moment, but she wouldn't change any of it for anything in the world. She had loved the years she'd spent alone with her husband, learning to live in the same space, learning more about both his past and his body. But now they were truly a family, something that had seemed like nothing but a faint dream. And John Bates truly was a wonderful father in every sense.

As if he could understand that she was thinking about him, he turned and pressed his lips to her hair.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too," she returned. "Now sleep while you can, Mr. Bates. You need to get a full night's in every once in a while."

He nodded, encouraging her to roll over so that he could mould himself to her back. It didn't take much persuading; it was her favourite position to fall asleep in. Silence reigned. Anna felt herself drifting, and thought that John must already have drifted, for his breathing had deepened and evened.

In her cot, Emma gave a tiny, tiny whimper.

John shot up at once.

"I think I should –" he began, but Anna cut him off, rising herself and pressing her mouth to his.

"There," she panted when they parted, "an effective way of shutting you up. And you'll do no such thing, John. She's not going to cry yet, just snuffling in her sleep. Leave her be."

John's sigh indicated that he was not comfortable with the prospect at all, but to his credit he settled back down. She took hold of his hand, guiding it back around until it rested snugly against her stomach. She closed her eyes again.

Another little gurgle.

This time, her exasperated cry of _"John Bates!"_ did set her off properly.

But, minutes later when Emma was nestled in her arms and John had his wrapped protectively around her shoulders, Anna couldn't bring herself to mind too much.


End file.
